Analysis and comment from Memphis, Tennessee, on media, politics, culture, science, my life and anything else that catches my eye.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Harold Ford, Jr.'s Soliloquy

To run, or not to run, that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler for the candidate to sufferThe slings and arrows of campaigningOr to take refuge against a sea of troubles in a safe House seat,And by ducking again avoid them? To run: to campaign;Once more; and by running to say we welcomeThe heartache and the thousand political barbsThat candidates are heir to, 'tis a falsehoodDevoutly to be put forward. To run, to campaign;To campaign: perchance to win: ay, there's the rub;For in that endless campaign what difficulties may come,When we have shuffled to yet another press conference,Must give us pause. There's the "gotcha"That makes calamity of political life.For who would bear the whips and scorns of Republicans,The grand jury's wrong, the proud uncle's contumely,The pangs of early polls, the national committee's delay,The insolence of voters, and the spurnsThat patient merit of unwashed crowds takes,When I myself might my legacy makeWith a safe House seat? Who would cable show hosts bear,To blather and sweat under a hot light,But that the dread of life as a private citizen,The anonymous country from whose shadowFew politicians return, puzzles the will,And makes me rather bear those perks I haveThan work for others I might not earn?Thus does indecision make wafflers of us all;And thus the native hue of Harold FordIs made even paler with this endless uncertainty;And campaigns of great and lofty platitudesWith this regard their volunteers turn awry.And lose the name of Senator.